Falchion's Lamentation
by Gardian X
Summary: Duty Before All Else. It was her way, her existence. She was the sword arm of Falchion. Her mission; striking down the Fell Dragon, no matter the cost. Even if it meant moving on after losing the Exalt; Lord Chrom. If she had learned anything as an Exalt herself, it was that any sacrifice was worth it if Grima fell...


_Falchion's Lamentation_

 _Prologue_

Trailing behind her father, a young woman remained silent, her cold eyes pensive as she watched him interact with his best friend, in that way that _only_ the truest friends could. Despite the fact that their words had little weight to them, they listened to each other as if each syllable could change the very fate of the future itself. His expression was full of life, ideals, and dreams had brought _all_ of his Shepherds hope.

He was the Exalt-one of the best that the nation had ever had, and she had vowed to ensure that he _truly_ lived a long life. Time itself had been defied to fulfill her duties, to protect him, and to ensure that the dark past would never come to light.

Her lips slowly thinned into a minor frown as she was reminded of _her_ time. When _she_ had been Exalt.

She'd been called 'heartless', 'cold', and 'empty'. They were right of course, but they had _needed_ the Exalt, and unlike her father who _somehow_ had managed to be strong despite his humanity, she'd had to elect to focus on making the sacrifices that had to be made…

Just what divided the two? Had it been simply because his was a better time? Most likely. In that sense, it was probably a kindness that he'd died before he'd had to become forged into Falchion's blade.

Instinctively, one hand slid to Falchion's hilt, and her other gripped her cape tightly, wrapping it over her arm. Despite the warmth of Valm, a chill had set into her bones and it was not a chill that could be remedied by a campfire.

Shaking her head slightly, she forced her thoughts back to the recesses of her mind. No, this wasn't the time to ponder these matters. Despite her limited successes, her mission yet remained in jeopardy.

She stiffened and put aside her musings as she sensed another approaching her from behind long before she heard her.

"Cynthia." She greeted without turning.

"How do you do that?" Her sister demanded.

Even though she hadn't turned, she knew she was pouting; her words and tone gave away more than the other girl realized.

Despite being second in line for the throne, Cynthia had managed to keep her hope and idealism. She was still bright, bubbly, and cheerful. In that sense, it was fortunate that she would likely never have to take up Falchion and learn of the price that came with it.

"I listen."

"But I was silent!" She protested, "How is a heroine supposed to make her triumphant entry if she's noticed before she approaches?"

Closing her eyes, Lucina felt a spike of exasperation. Just how long would she keep up the 'heroine charade'? She would never say it bluntly, but she had long since tired of the childish antics.

"It is not word nor sound that gives you away." No, there was a presence about the girl that made it easy for her to pick up on her approach _long_ before she was within distance to be heard.

Her sister blinked in confusion before she interrupted whatever she was about to say.

"What can I do for you Cynthia? If it is about Lord Chrom, I am certain he would be open to discussion." She tilted her head towards the father, and the much shorter princess glared at her.

"Father's more than just 'Lord Chrom', he's _our father_!"

At that point Lucina tuned out her sister's rant. Thankfully, at last it ended and she glanced over at the other girl.

"Cynthia, I do _not_ have time for this. If it is not important, please, leave me."

Cynthia's eyes teared slightly, but Lucina didn't notice since her attention focused on the road ahead of them.

Turning back, Cynthia fell into the main ranks once more, leaving Lucina to herself. It was then she felt that _something_ was terribly wrong. Yanking Falchion from her belt, she swept it in front of her and spun to the left, barely able to deflect an arrow.

"AMBUSH!" Chrom's loyal knight Frederick yelled as several more arrows descended, a few harmlessly bouncing off of his oversized shield.

"Lucina! Guard the Pegasus knights!" Robin barked as he fired off a Thoron into the trees, causing one of the attackers to scream his ensuing death.

Lucina nodded as she hurried to the left flank. This was battle, and Robin would see them through. Even if she did not trust him completely, she knew he _was_ a master of his craft and since her father trusted him, she too would give him benefit of the doubt.

Eventually, the attack against the pegasus knights was brought to an end as Lucina impaled the last archer. Kicking him off of her sword, she turned, and realized that the battle, as fierce and mad as it had been, had ended just as quickly.

The Valmese Empire was trying desperate tactics now, only growing more persistent the closer to the capital the Shepherds got. Kneeling beside the still warm corpse of the archer she'd just killed, she wiped Falchion clean on his leggings.

With it clean, she returned it to its sheath and returned to the front of the group. However, her expression paled as she saw Robin on his knees, sobbing hysterically over a body and Lucina's own heart froze. The arrow in his temple told her the story far quicker than any words could.

"Oh gods… No…" Lucina whispered.

If she could have afforded it, she'd have dropped to one knee.

Her mission to ensure that her father lived… It had ended in failure. Was changing the future impossible? Were Cynthia and Lucina meant to be without their parents, even in this time…? Bowing her head, she closed her eyes for a long moment.

Then, as always, she hardened her heart. Lord Chrom had been yet another loss in their war for survival. His death had _always_ been a terrible, terrible possibility. Solemnly, she approached Robin.

"Robin, I need you to be strong, for Lord Chrom's sake. For just a little longer." She was as gentle as she could be, despite the coldness in her tone and words.

Robin's head snapped up, his unkempt white hair wreathing his slightly round face. Tears still streamed from his darkened eyes.

"How _could you_?" He whispered, horrified that she was apparently unfazed by even the death of his best friend, her _father_.

"Walhart must fall, and then, Grima must follow. Ylisse needs you to hold together until this war against the Valmese Empire is to a close. We _cannot_ afford to allow Lord Chrom's death to be in vain. Grieve afterward."

Robin slowly closed her father's eyes, and laid Falchion on his chest before he rose, doing everything in his power to avoid disturbing his body. Once he had, he approached Lucina, and struck her with the back of his hand with enough force to send her head to one side.

It stung but she said nothing in response to the attack.

"Damn it Lucina, your father just died! For gods sake, my best friend is _gone-_!" Lucina interrupted sharply as she turned to face him.

"-And if you fall apart now everything your friend tried to accomplish will become undone. This may sound cruel, but this is _war_. Losses are _going_ to happen. You are a tactician, I would have assumed that you of all people would understand that."

Robin closed his eyes while the tears still streamed down his face.

"We will bring him back to Ylisse, where he will be properly buried." She offered, and the tactician nodded slowly.

"...Then we… We have to finish this war… Quickly."

"For your friend's sake." She agreed.

It might not have been ideal, but at least he was moving forward again.

This was what made an Exalt; to be able to put her duty above all else. Sacrifices and loss were all part of the role and she had learned from an early age that life was a fragile and transient thing. Death was the currency of war. Life was cheap, even hers, especially in times such as these.

Her eyes hardened slightly. Even without Ylisse's Exalt, she still wielded Falchion. Grima _could_ and would fall. Certainly, the newly born Cynthia and her older sister would mature without their father, but if that was the _only_ thing they lost… They would be able to count themselves truly fortunate.

"Robin, see to Lord Chrom. I will ensure that the Shepherds learn of what has happened."

Robin nodded with a wooden expression. Returning to the Shepherds, Lucina called forth the meeting that would change _everything._

Having them gathered together, Lucina rose and stood in the center of the group.

"You all may have wondered why I called an emergency meeting right after the last battle."

"Oh c'ommon Luci! It ain't like it was a tough one! The Vaike had it all under control!" The man boasted as he hefted his axe over his shoulder.

A few of the younger shepherds laughed at Vaike's boast, but Lucina simply shot him a chilling glance before she spoke further.

"Unfortunately, for the first time in a while, the Shepherds have suffered their first casualty."

A silence overtook the group, and some of them shifted nervously.

"...Today on March Seventh, Lord Chrom was struck fatally by an archer. It is unlikely he felt any pain."

Lucina heard Cynthia sobbing nearby, but she didn't turn to face her sister.

"I will not deny that this is a heavy blow to all of us, but we _must_ continue, for Lord Chrom's ideals, for his sake, and for those he left behind." Closing her eyes, she reminded herself that this wasn't the first time she'd had to pull the Shepherds together, but hopefully it would be the last.

Shaking her head, she opened her eyes, looking at each of them.

"Lord Chrom entrusted each of us with the future. It was he who taught so many of us that hope never truly dies. But, right now, for Valm, hope is fleeting and sparse. As long as Walhart continues to control this continent with an iron grip, all that Lord Chrom fought for will have been for naught. Shepherds, I will not ask that you not grieve. However, I do ask that you hold off on it until this bloody war is brought to an end."

"Lucina-!" Cynthia choked out but the woman continued to ignore her.

"I realize that I do not have the loyalty that Lord Chrom inspired. I likely will never obtain the kind of loyalty that he commanded either. Where he had kindness and an approachable nature, I do not. However, I swear to you that I will continue to pursue this mission and I will continue to ensure that Lord Chrom's dream of bringing about peace does come about. It is terrible to have to bring up so quickly but, the Shepherds need a strong head. The _future_ will be yours to write." Glancing at each of them, she continued to ignore her sister's ever growing sobs.

Glancing at Frederick, the man shook his head, and she tilted hers forward slightly in response. He was a knight, not a leader and both of them realized it. Turning her gaze to Flavia the woman shook her head. She was a Khan. While that meant she _was_ a leader, it was not that of Ylissean leadership. It would likely cause too many hassles to have her in charge. Worse yet, she was grieving over the loss of her fellow Khan Basilio. Robin? No he was the tactician, and that was plenty difficult a role, let alone the fact that he'd just lost his best friend… And…. She couldn't trust him. Especially now that Lord Chrom had fallen. Her eyes glanced over at the others. Miriel, no she'd outright refuse (and that would be for the best), Cordelia? Possibly, but she would likely exhaust or even kill herself with how much she was already doing. Severa? No, she snapped too easily. Inigo? She'd _never_ follow him, and she was fairly certain that there were several women that felt the same way. Unfortunately, Lady Sumia was recovering from a brutal birth back in Ylisse due to Lord Chrom worrying over her health. She'd had had a difficult birth with Lucina as well, so his worries _had_ been justified.

For several moments she remained silent before she spoke.

"Lady Cordelia, Sir Stahl, it is my opinion that you are two of the most qualified to take the reins until we return from the war."

Cordelia nodded, for once showing that she _could_ feel grief as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Stahl on the other hand immediately shook his head, his eyes tightly shut.

"Not happening. I'm not leadership material," His words were a hushed whisper, "I'm no Chrom…"

Cordelia looked at the blue haired woman before she spoke.

"Lucina, you've seen what the future holds should we fail and despite how many of us feel about you _personally_ , no one can argue your loyalty to the mission to stop the future you came from." Lucina tilted her head, recognizing the point.

She did not expect people to follow her out of loyalty won by kind actions. People did not flock to her banner as they had the prior Exalt. Instead, she led by necessity. People followed because she was the _only_ choice, and as it had been in her time, it was once again the case.

Turning her lifeless gaze upon the group, she spoke grimly.

"I am not the charismatic leader Lord Chrom was, where he focused on trust and humanitarianism, I apply logic and utilize calculated decisions. It is _not_ anything like what Lord Chrom was." She warned.

Exhaling slightly, she closed her eyes.

"If I am needed for this, so be it. The Shepherds still remain as the best hope for the fall of Grima, and the best chance to end this bloody war alike. ...Shepherds, set up camp, and embalm Lord Chrom. Tactician, I have need of you in the war tent."

They weren't used to losing friends, let alone their leader. However, Lucina _was_ , and while she lacked the ability to heal their wounds, she would step up to ensure that the Shepherds held together. Gods knew that they'd hate her for it, but that didn't matter, it never had before, and it never would in the future.

In her veins flowed the blood the Exalt line. Before she was a sister, before she was a daughter, and even before she was a friend, she was Exalt, Falchion's arm.

 _Duty before all else._

 ** _Okay, I know it's not Mark of Man, and this brings up_** ** _way_** ** _more questions than not, but this is a fic I started a while ago on a Lucina that tried to hold the world together basically on her own. She kept trying to take in the pains and griefs of everyone around her and never accepted help in return. So... She was forced to build walls to survive. I doubt I'd continue this particular arc but I could be willing to do something more with this Lucina as she's a fascinating character and has a lot of hidden depths. I mostly just wanted to get this drabble out there so it'd stop sitting around on my PC and taunting me._**


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